


these things take forever

by ALovelyLitwit



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex Manes Loves Michael Guerin, M/M, Michael Guerin Loves Alex Manes, Not Forrest Long Friendly, Reunion Fic, Summer Night Romance fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28927647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALovelyLitwit/pseuds/ALovelyLitwit
Summary: Michael asks Alex to dance.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 35
Kudos: 146





	these things take forever

**Author's Note:**

> An ode to my smalltown's summer street dances that always attracted a crowd the other town events couldn't. I don't know what I'm going to write after they reunite on the show, lol.

Summer nights in Roswell are deceptive. While there’s still light outside, temperatures swelter, brows shine with sweat, and t-shirts stick to slick backs. But as the night closes in, things change. Sweaters and sweatshirts emerge, physical activity picks up, and smiles broaden. The air loose, lithe, and lilting. 

Michael’s favorite summer nights are Fridays in July. What feels like the whole town gathers on 3rd Street in downtown. Stages are erected at either end of the road, blocking intersections and diverting traffic. Booths line the sidewalks with food and drink, crafts for sale, and other vendors hawking their various wares. There’s the buzz of amps and the sharp cries of mic check as the evening’s entertainment warms up on stage. And the night air swells with something that feels like magic.

On this particular night, he arrives early enough to get prime parking, lowers his tailgate, and slides his cooler next to him. Occasionally, Isobel joins him, or sometimes Max if Maria’s given him the night off, but mostly, it’s Arturo that sits with him outside the Crashdown, passing out free milkshake coupons and catching him up on Liz’s current out-of-state escapades. 

Isobel often asks why he loves these Fridays so much. It’s true that he’s never been one for joining, especially town events. And it’s easy enough to avoid the real answer. After all, free food is hard to say no to and that answer always guilts his sister into shutting up. Nevermind that Michael is capable of feeding himself these days, meager though his wages may or may not be. 

The truth is harder to put into words. It’s that indescribable and almost seductive feeling of magic. Like possibility waits just around the corner -- even for him. For two or three hours, everyone is smiling, joking, laughing. His senses are overwhelmed with rowdy guitars and smoking skillets, fiery sparklers and out-of-rhythm hips. And for just a little while, he gets to pretend that small-town America is exactly the safe, happy refuge his mother had sought for him.

Sipping on his beer, he recognizes a familiar face across the street, staring down at his phone and frowning. Michael slides his own phone out of his pocket and sends Alex a simple text.

_I see you._

Alex’s head jerks up as he searches the crowded street for Michael, smiling when their eyes finally meet. Michael holds up a beer and nods his head toward the empty spot next to him. He’s not expecting anyone else this evening, only the regular Liz updates from Arturo, so Alex dodging people on his way over feels a little like kismet and a lot like exactly what he wants from this Friday night street dance.

‘Hey.’ Alex collapses next to him, his smile spreading wider. ‘Didn’t expect to see you here.’

‘Could say the same for you. Meeting Forrest?’ Since Alex had started dating Forrest, they haven’t spoken as much as Michael would like, both preferring to give each other some space while Alex figures out what he wants. At least that’s what Michael tells himself, although the few times they have interacted have been strange, like Alex is always on the verge of saying something but has never been able to find the words.

‘Supposed to be, yeah.’ But he’s not searching the crowd for Forrest’s dayglow dyed hair or staring at his phone in anticipation. Instead, he’s worrying at his cuticles, brow furrowed. And it’s the same strange feeling all over again. He wants to say something but won’t.

‘Spit it out, Alex.’ He tries to hand him a beer, but Alex waves him off.

‘It’s nothing. And definitely nothing for you to worry about.’ It’s the typical avoidance he’s come to expect from Alex, but no less frustrating for its normality.

The band nearest them takes the stage. The vibration of electric guitars fills the silence between them as they sit on Michael’s tailgate, knees just shy of touching. Several fliers stuck to nearby light poles advertise them as a 90s cover band, and Michael prepares himself for terrible renditions of Nirvana or Pearl Jam or Soundgarden that literally no one can dance to. He’s completely taken aback, audibly gasping when the beginning chords of ‘First Day Of My Life’ by Bright Eyes begin to filter down over the gathered crowd.

A little like kismet, a lot like exactly what he wants.

Setting his beer aside, he stands up and holds a hand out to Alex, cocky grin plastered across his face. It’s either the best idea he’ll ever have or the worst. ‘Dance with me. They’re playing our song.’

Alex quirks an eyebrow, and Michael wonders if he even remembers their kiss in the museum. The one that had begun and ended a lifetime ago. But when Michael doesn’t take his hand away, Alex’s eyebrow drops and his face softens and he takes Michael’s hand without question.

They’ve never danced before, and it’s a little awkward at first, figuring out where to put their hands. But eventually, they weave their fingers together and clutch at one another’s shoulder, perhaps a bit tighter than necessary. There’s an inch of space between them, but the pull to press together is strong, tension thick and palpable. And somehow comforting in the way touching each other always is.

Michael can’t help but notice a few uncomfortable glances darted their way, some encouraging smiles too. An older couple joining them nearby, dancing easy and close. Soon, several other townspeople have joined them, and it’s another moment when Michael allows himself to imagine a different, better Roswell than the one he’s been surviving for so long.

‘How have you been?’ Alex’s voice shakes him from his thoughts. The song is almost over and he panics, biting his fingernails into Alex’s shoulder and forgetting the question he was asked.

‘What?’

Alex laughs, nervous. ‘I was just asking how you’ve been. We haven’t seen much of each other.’

The too-short song ends, but the band immediately starts to play another, something he doesn’t recognize. Alex doesn’t pull away, so Michael doesn’t either. He lets his shoulders relax. ‘Good. I’ve actually been really good.’

‘Happy?’ The gap between them grows as Alex looks at him, waiting for his response.

A loaded question if there ever was one. ‘Happy enough, I guess.’

Alex frowns and it’s his turn to squeeze rough at Michael’s shoulder. ‘Just enough? What’s missing?’

Michael looks over Alex’s shoulder at the other dancing couples, the simple familiar way they all sway together. He watches two kids laugh and play, running and twisting through the people scattered in the street, cherry ice spilling onto the cooling pavement. A dog barks to his left, tail wagging between his humans. He drags his eyes back to Alex who’s been patiently waiting while his eyes search for the right answer. ‘Nothing. I mean...I don’t know. Just I’m happy with where things are right now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still want...more.’

There’s so much more all around them. He wonders if Alex has noticed it too or if he doesn’t bother looking now that Forrest is in the picture. 

‘Are _you_ happy?’ He asks the question even though he’s afraid of the answer. But Alex doesn’t need to know that, so he forces a smile and settles in closer, still not quite touching.

And Michael swears he sees Alex flinch, the tiniest flicker of his cheeks. ‘No.’

His answer is unexpected. ‘No?’

Alex sighs, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. A multitude of microexpressions dance across his face, and Michael knows he’s searching for his own right words in the quiet darkness of his own making. When he looks at Michael again, there’s a sadness trapped in his pretty brown eyes that wasn’t there before. ‘I’m planning on breaking up with Forrest tonight. I’m pretty sure he knows and that’s why he’s almost an hour late.’

‘What happened?’ Michael’s not sure that’s something he’s allowed to ask, but since Alex is sharing, he’s willing to listen. It’s not often he opens up about...well...anything.

Alex shrugs, hand sliding over Michael’s shoulder, thumb meeting the bare skin of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. Michael involuntarily tenses and Alex quickly yanks his hand back where he’d had it earlier, visibly swallowing. ‘Everything’s felt so suffocating. He’s just always _there_ , you know? And look, I know that’s how it should be, but it’s too much. We aren’t...he’s not…’

He takes the deepest breath Michael has ever seen him take. ‘Turns out, there really is only one Michael Guerin in this universe.’

He cuts himself off, dropping his forehead to Michael’s shoulder, falling so still Michael’s worried he’s stopped breathing. Another song starts, this one uptempo, but neither of them is moving anymore. Curious glances are flung their way again, but Michael ignores them, wrapping his arm around the back of Alex’s shoulders to hug him closer. 

A minute passes. Maybe longer. But eventually, Alex raises his head. ‘I’m sorry. This isn’t your problem.’ He starts trying to squirm out of Michael’s grasp, but Michael only holds on tighter. Tonight, they’re going to break some old habits or make a scene trying.

To his credit, Alex doesn’t fight hard--or even at all--to get away. Instead, he sinks into Michael’s hug with a shuddering release of breath. And maybe it’s wrong to hold each other like this. Noses buried in necks, Alex’s hand threaded through Michael’s hair, Michael’s fingers tangled in the back of Alex’s t-shirt. But this is their song, their dance. Always has been; always will be. And it’s Forrest who doesn’t belong here.

‘I feel like the godawful highlights and gaudy fucking rings on every finger should have been a full out cockblock and saved you from all of this.’ 

‘Well, I’m not as smart as you.’ They both laugh, bodies melting together as the tension eases, hips and hands and hearts slotting into place seamlessly. It’s then that Michael notices Forrest watching them from across the street. Hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie and a look that could kill creeping across his face. 

‘I think our dance is over.’

Alex shifts away, eyes landing on Forrest immediately. ‘I guess so.’ He starts to walk across the street but stops and turns around after only a few steps. ‘Come over tonight? I’ll make you a really good cup of coffee, and we can talk. All night if we have to.’

Michael smiles, a touch bashful suddenly, thumbs hooking behind his belt buckle. ‘I’ll be there. Good luck with that.’ He points his chin at Forrest. ‘Holler if you need anything.

With that, Alex heads toward Forrest, and Michael pivots in the opposite direction, making his way back to another beer and the safety of his truck. Arturo is there to greet him, Liz’s name rolling off his tongue as soon as Michael sits down. And Michael listens attentively, despite already knowing most of what he has to share thanks to a phone call from Liz only a couple of days ago. But Arturo’s pride and love for his daughters is always worth witnessing. Just another beautiful thing this small tragic town has to offer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
